


would you mind if i sat next to you & watched you smile

by gloriousmonsters



Series: Earth 451 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Earth 451, Gen, Trans Character, two of em actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousmonsters/pseuds/gloriousmonsters
Summary: Sometimes you meet someone almost as weird as you, and this whole 'super criminal' thing gets a little less lonely.





	would you mind if i sat next to you & watched you smile

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny warnings: Background stabbing, trans character getting misgendered briefly before she's realized to be trans.
> 
> Set in Earth 451, GoblinBard & I's personal Batman 'verse.

It was an average night; packed town hall of people, square-jawed henches with guns and awkwardly applied facepaint lining the edges, the mayor strapped to a wheel. Jack was trying to remember if this was the third mayor he would have to kill, or only the second; things got blurry, popping in and out of Arkham. Plus he was growing concerned about the damage to his head, what with the local cryptid vigilante’s love of landing punches there. That could blur your memories if done enough, right? Or maybe it was the alcohol. Since that Penguin fellow had thrown open his bar to them, Jack had been indulging in the discounted drinks a little too often. 

All in all, his attention was only partially on the audience when he said, “Do I have a volunteer? Anyone? C’mon, with this guy’s opinions on healthcare  _ someone  _ must want to land a knife in him.” He paused for a moment, then rolled into the next bit, gesturing in exasperation. “Have to do everything my—”

His eyes caught on the hand raised, somewhere in the back of the audience, and he broke off. This was new. New and  _ interesting.  _

“Well, maybe I’ll get a night off after all.” He beckoned, and watched with curiosity as the crowd rippled apart, the members staring in horror at the person making their way through the room. “Come on up, don’t be shy.”

It was a soft-faced boy, with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Odd look for such a conservative part of town. Jack reached out the hand with the joy buzzer—whether this volunteer was genuine or not, it’s be good to give him a little reminder of what Jack can do—but the boy glances at it sideways before ignoring it, planting his hands on the edge of the stage and flipping upwards onto it. Cute  _and _ acrobatic. Even if he wasn’t Jack’s type. 

Jack held one of the throwing knives he’d brought up on stage like a pretend megaphone. “What’s your name, kiddo?” He held the hilt out to the boy. This would probably be too tempting if the kid was trying to kill him, but he still had the joy buzzer at the ready. He could handle it. 

But the boy didn’t grab for the handle. He looked at Jack with wide blue eyes full of some kind of struggle, then leaned forward until his lips almost touched the pretend-mic. “Harley.” A pause. “Harley Quinn. Pleased to meetcha.”

Oh.

_ Ah.  _

Jack brought the ‘mic’ back to his lips. “Miss Quinn, good to have you here with us tonight! Everyone, a round of applause for our lovely volunteer.”

There’s a round of confused but vigorous applause; men with guns always bring out the appreciative spirit in people. And one of the widest, sweetest grins Jack has ever seen breaks out over the girl’s face. She spins around and does a couple elaborate bows to the audience, then turns and gives another one to Jack. He bows back to her, and they get caught up in a feedback loop for a minute until she leans forward a little and purposefully smacks heads with him. Jack staggers back a step, glaring, trying not to laugh out loud. The kid’s a natural comedian. 

Too bad they’ve got the worst audience ever. It takes Jack jerking his head at the henches and the battered ‘Laughter’ sign he imported from the site of a comedy set being indicated grimly by the men with guns for them to get some nervous chuckles. Jack decides to ignore the philistines and brings the knife hilt to his mouth again. 

“Now, I have to say that’s an intriguing name. Harley Quinn. What was your mother’s name? Jess Terr?”

Harley gasped theatrically. “How could you guess? Wait—no—” She peered at him, then reeled back. “My long lost cousin, Joe Kerr?  _ It can’t be!” _

There’s a glitter of fear in her eyes; worrying she’s driving the scene too much, that he’ll take offense. He doesn’t mind. It’s a good gag, better than he would’ve expected from a kid put on the spot. He flings his arms open with a dramatic yell of “Cousin!” and she flings her full weight on him. He staggers under it, but holds up, smiles at the feeling of her heart pounding under her skin. She probably still doesn’t know whether he’s going to kill her, but she put herself in contact with him anyway. Now  _ that  _ was commitment to comedy. 

Time to test the other most important quality in someone who wanted to play along with his games. 

“You’ll never guess what I got you as a glad-we-finally-reunited present,” he announced, putting her down on the floor. 

Harley bounced in place, clapping her hands. “What? What?”

“Mayor James!” He gestured at the half-conscious man, then grabbed the display tray of throwing knives and thrust them into her hands. “And these lovely knives! I trust you’ll find new and exciting ways to combine them.”

There were whimpers of horror from the audience. Harley eyed the knives for a moment, and he saw uncertainty on her face. Then she turned it into a glare at him. 

“Got it just for me, huh?” she asked. “Then why’d you have him already up here?”

Jack made obviously pathetic attempts to stutter an explanation as she continued. “You wouldn’t have just pretended you got me something as a present when it was any old mayor you had lying around the place, would you?”

There was an uncertain titter of laughter from the midst of the crowd. Several killjoys immediately directed judging glares at the source, but Jack was buoyed up. 

“Harley, I really thought you’d like him!” he pleaded, gesturing at the mayor. “He’s fun! He’s squishy! He was a less expensive option than the president, but it’s just a scam, really, the marked-up prices. They’re all filled with the same gooey red stuff.”

“I hate gooey red stuff!” She dramatically flung the knives into the air. Jack managed to snatch away one just before it plummeted back into her chest. Her eyes went very wide for a moment before she continued, her voice just a little more squeaky. “It’s like you don’t even know me!”

“Well, we did just meet.” He lowered his voice a little. “And if you don’t like gooey red stuff, stop throwing the knives around.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and mouthed “sorry, impulse.” Well, he knew all about that. He turned disconsolately away, twirling the knife between his fingers. He’d planned a bigger finish for the mayor than this, but maybe the old fart didn’t even deserve it. Not as much as Harley deserved a bit more getting-to-know-you time. 

“Well, if you don’t like it we’ll just get rid of him.” He flicked the knife into the mayor’s head; spoke as well as he could over the screaming. “Maybe they’ll at least give me a discount on the next one, seeing as it’ll be the fourth—”

“Third,” Harley corrected, her blue eyes wide. 

“Really? Must’ve gotten the DA or something confused in there. Regardless.” Jack offered her his arm. “Shall we depart before my least favorite critic crashes the party?”

“The Bat,” she whispered. 

“Exactly. Or you could leave, if you have more pressing engagements.”

She hesitated, for a moment, but when she took his arm her grip was firm, her smile wide and bright. “Let’s go, Mr. J.”

Jack cracked a grin in return. “Innovative. I like it.”


End file.
